


Hours of the Day

by le_russe_satan



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:52:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_russe_satan/pseuds/le_russe_satan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I still haven't seen Skyfall, so I hope it's not too OOC. Also, I am sorry for the terrible science.</p></blockquote>





	Hours of the Day

  _Morning_

As the funeral attendants disperse, Bond and Q somehow fall in beside each other. When they reach the gates, Q pauses, tilting his umbrella to look at Bond.

'I must be getting back to headquarters, 007. I am sure I shall see you there.' Q doesn't move though.

'Tube?' asks Bond not quite meeting Q's eyes.

'Yes, I don't particularly enjoy London traffic.'

'I am taking the tube as well. I'll walk you.' Q raises his eyebrow, because Bond's car is right there, but doesn't say anything.

'You know, Bond, I am allowed to walk the dangerous streets of London on my own. MI6 never thought it necessary to provide me with an escort,' he says a couple of minutes later as they make their way towards the underground station through thickening crowds.

'I know,' answers Bond, not ready to make any sort of conversation. He does shoot a sideways glance at Q, just in time to see him roll his eyes.

Bond follows Q onto the train and stands almost pressed up against him, not through any desire to do so, but through lack of space.

'Bond, I am going where I said I was.'

'I know,' says Bond again and can't help the small smile that escapes at Q's irritated expression.  

_Noon_

'Have you ever been tempted to use your credentials to get into CERN?' Asks 0011, as Q puts the items he's been showing the agent back into the case. 

'No, I can't say I have.'

The agent smiles, 'It's just that you remind me a little of Brian Cox off TV. You know, genius with boyish looks.' Q is startled enough by that comment to actually pause and look at 0011. He's never really liked him, which is odd. 0011 is a good agent: rarely destroys equipment, flies very much under the radar, never disobeys orders,  _but he is no 007,_  supplies Q's brain helpfully.

Of course, Bond is exactly the person who shoulders past 0011 as the man exits Q's office. And of course he is smirking.

'I never thought 0011 had the balls to flirt with a Quartermaster.' Bond leans his hip against the side of Q's desk.

'I never thought double O agents were so blatant about eavesdropping.'

'Only when it comes to our Quartermasters.'

Q almost huffs at that. 'You should be careful about trying to get a rise out of me, 007, you never know which item I might turn into an explosive.'

Bond grins, pulls up a chair and sits down, with what would be a mischievous expression, if Bond was capable of such a thing. 'Tell me then, I have a couple of hours to spare.' 

This time Q does huff.

_Afternoon_

It is almost a repeat of their first meeting. Only this time it's Bond who joins Q on a bench. 

'I would have thought you'd prefer to meet in Kew Gardens,' he says, while briefly studying their surroundings. Late blooms still adorn some of bushes, but otherwise the rose garden looks rather bare.

'Do you think I cannot resist a cheap pun?' Q asks a little tersely.

'You do have that mug,' deadpans Bond.

'At work, Bond. Q is not really my name. It is a job title.'

For a few brief moments Bond actually considers digging up any available information on Regent's Park in general and the rose garden in particular. Maybe there is a rare breed of roses here, whose latin name could give a cryptic clue to Q's real name. He dismisses the thought quickly. This is not about what Q's name _is_ , but rather the fact that he _has_  one. And that it has nothing to do with his work.

'Would you let me treat you to a cup of Earl Grey?' Bond finally says, lightening the formal words with a small smirk.

'I think I may be persuaded to try Assam or Darjeeling,' answers Q. 

Neither of them moves for some moments, though perhaps the distance between their shoulder is a little bit smaller than it was several minutes ago.

_Evening_

'We don't know for certain that this is their main warehouse.' Q lifts a small strip of transparent plastic that looks like a plaster from a container. 'Should the operation proceed as planned, we will be able to tell you before you go in, whether that's where they store the chemicals. However, seeing as you were the agent put on this mission, I am not holding out much hope that things will go as planned.'

Q takes a step towards him, there is barely any space between them now and Bond fights his instincts that tell him to either move back or finally  _do_  something.

'This is sort of a litmus paper. It will send a signal to me and to your headset, if any harmful substances are detected in the air. It should give you ample time to get out of the danger zone. At least that's the idea.'

Q stretches out his hand and presses the plastic strip against Bond's skin, just behind his left ear. Bond feels several small pricks, as if from a needle.

'It needs to be on you at all times and it must be exposed to the air. This is the only practical place to attach it that I could think of.'

Bond nods, but even that is not enough to dislodge Q's thumb that is still resting on the thin piece of plastic – the only thing that prevents skin on skin on contact. That is, until Q's hand loses its steadiness for just a split second and his knuckles brush against Bond's cheek.

 _Night_  

When M puts him on a surveillance operation, which requires sitting in a hotel room watching camera feeds, Bond doesn't fight it. M has made it very clear that he will not consider reinstating him to full duty for at least another two weeks and Bond decides that even a surveillance operation like this one beats doing nothing.

He installs the cameras and the bugs in their target's room and holes himself up in his own room, two doors down, waiting for an MI6 technician to arrive. Apparently, the target is somebody from the top echelon of the MI5 and everything must be triple-checked.

It is Q himself who arrives. He checks the audio and visual feeds quickly, almost in a perfunctory manner. 

'Well, everything seems to be in order. As I was sure it would.' Bond is a little taken aback by this remark, but quickly recovers.

'Does it have a record function?' He asks. 

In fact, Bond knows that it does. He's been around surveillance equipment long enough. He needs to hear Q's answer though, because he is not really asking about the equipment.

'Yes,' Q presses a button on the laptop, 'It is recording now. There is enough space on this hard drive for hours and hours of recording.'

Bond knows that this is as much as they are both prepared to talk about what is happening, but it's all they need right now. He kisses Q and undoes the knot of his tie at the same time.

 _Dawn_  

Bond can feel Q's gaze on himself as he dresses. Q is still lying in bed, languid, naked but alert. 

'I will have to get involved with others during the missions.' It's harder to say than Bond thought it would be.

'I know.'

'I will try and avoid it if I can.' Bond isn't sure if he will, but the night before he let Q mark him with bruises and scratches, encouraged them, welcomed them.

'I know,' says Q.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I still haven't seen Skyfall, so I hope it's not too OOC. Also, I am sorry for the terrible science.


End file.
